And he had the great
moustache which he caressed again and again with his fingers." Gabrielle
daintily imitated the action on her own short upper lip.
"I know him," declared Crewe with a smile. "His name is Rolfe. There
should be nothing about him to alarm you, mademoiselle. Why, he is quite
a ladies' man."
Gabrielle shrugged her shoulders disdainfully.
"That may be," she replied; "but I like him not, and I do not wish him to
worry Madame Holymead."
"But why not let him see Mrs. Holymead?" suggested Crewe, after a short
pause. "As he only wants to ask her a few short questions, it seems to me
that would be the quickest way out of the difficulty, and would save you
all the trouble and worry you speak of."
"I tell you I will not," declared Gabrielle vehemently. "I will not have
Madame Holymead worried and made ill with the terrible ordeal. Bah! What
do you men--so clumsy--know of the delicate feelings of a lady like
Madame Holymead? The least soupcon of excitement and she is disturbed,
distraite, for days. After last night--after the visit of the police
agent--she was quite hysterical."
"Why should she be when she had nothing to be afraid of?" rejoined Crewe.
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